


you can't tame me (but i'm the same me)

by persephoneggsy



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Horns, Incubus Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Size Kink, Top Victor Nikiforov, Wings, and victor is Into It, i mean that's pretty much the plot yuuri is an incubus, implied marathon sex, smut written by an asexual virgin, tail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 21:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12491460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephoneggsy/pseuds/persephoneggsy
Summary: Yuuri has a secret he's kept his entire life. Victor finds out about it.... It works out pretty well for the both of them.





	you can't tame me (but i'm the same me)

**Author's Note:**

> this counts as a Halloween fic right
> 
> title from Dua Lipa's 'Blow Your Mind (Mwah)'

* * *

 

_‘Don’t come out… Don’t come – ah!’_

Yuuri bites down on his bottom lip, hard, as Victor changes his angle just so, pounding harder and deeper inside him. He knows he must look awful; he’s sweaty and flushed from head to toe, but for some reason, Victor doesn’t seem to mind. His idol-turned-coach-turned-lover only smirks, tightening his bruising grip on Yuuri’s hips as he continues his punishing pace.

Yuuri can’t look him in the eyes right now – it’s unfair how goddamn attractive Victor is like this. He’s attractive anyway, of course, but the fine sheen of sweat on Victor’s muscular body almost makes him glow, and the way his hair is tousled, bouncing with every harsh thrust in, causes Yuuri’s heartrate to skyrocket to possibly worrisome levels.

So he clenches his eyes shut and tries to calm down, desperate to hold on to some semblance of sanity, even through Victor’s apparent desire to fuck Yuuri senseless. He shouldn’t have agreed to this, he thinks.

_What if Victor finds out?_

He just has to stay calm. If he concentrates, the pleasure won’t overwhelm him. He just has to make Victor come, and then hopefully he’ll have calmed down enough to take care of himself before things get… out of hand.

Yuuri can do this. He’s got this under control.

And naturally, as he thinks that, Victor finally manages to find his prostate.

Yuuri’s eyes fly open and he cries out, back arching. It’s like a ripple of intensity echoes throughout his body. Or maybe wave would be a better term; it crashes over Yuuri, whose toes curl and whose throat lets out an obscene, mewling groan.

He distantly hears Victor’s amused (and slightly awed) _“Wow!”_ above him, but he can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed.

The thread has been snapped.

It happens almost inhumanely fast – Yuuri surges up, pushing at Victor’s shoulders. The Russian barely has time to blink before he finds himself lying on his back, Yuuri sprawled over him like a cat in heat. Yuuri has his hands splayed over Victor’s chest, admiring the firm muscle under his palms for a moment before getting down to business. He grinds in Victor’s lap, making the older man gasp and squirm under him.

“Y-Yuuri,” he stutters, looking up at Yuuri in lustful amazement.

Yuuri doesn’t say anything. He just brings his hips up, until the fat head of Victor’s thick cock is the only thing still inside him, and then slams back down, moaning shamelessly as its girth stretches him wide and deep.

Victor’s hands find their way back to his body, only this time they anchor themselves to his thighs. Victor has a weird thing about his thighs; Yuuri’s never been able to figure it out. He thinks they’re fat, even when he’s at his ideal weight, and his stretch marks are embarrassing, but Victor just runs his fingers reverently across each raised, light line like they’re a love letter penned by Yuuri’s own hand.

“ _Zolotse,_ look at you, you’re incredible,” Victor murmurs, but Yuuri just barely hears him. He’s too lost now, bouncing up and down on Victor’s cock like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to do. It might be, now. Yuuri’s seriously tempted to give up skating and just be Victor’s personal whore, if it means he can have this cock inside him for the rest of his life.

Yuuri feels a horribly familiar energy build up within him, enveloping him in a warm haze. Instead of being terrified or resisting it, though, this time, Yuuri welcomes it. As he does, the pleasure increases, as he knew it would. Victor jolts underneath him – he must feel it, too.

“W-Wha - ?” he starts to ask, but Yuuri leans down and swallows up the question with a harsh, wet kiss. Victor goes along with it easily, groaning against Yuuri’s lips. He rolls them over, forcing Yuuri onto his back again, but not once does he try to break the kiss.

He pounds into Yuuri almost frantically now, the sound of their coupling growing harsher, more violent. The hotel room is filled with echoes of skin slapping skin, labored grunts, and lewd, wet kissing.

Yuuri finally breaks the kiss, tilting his head back with a delighted moan as Victor finds his prostate again. He sinks further into the mattress, head feeling heavier than before, and wraps his legs around Victor’s waist.

“God, Victor, fuck me harder,” he pants.

_“Fuck,”_ Victor whispers, burying his face into the nape of Yuuri’s neck. His pace grows impossibly faster, rhythm stuttering as he grows closer to climax. Yuuri’s own cock is trapped between their bodies, and Victor’s frenetic thrusting causes the friction on it to increase.

It just makes Yuuri worse.

“Come inside me, Vitya,” he begs, voice cracking, high and needy. “I want it – I _need_ it, please, fill me up with your come - !”

Victor makes some kind of strangled noise against his skin that, if Yuuri were in his right mind, would’ve concerned him. As he is now, though, he mostly feels a surge of pride at reducing Victor Nikiforov, the man with a comeback to everything, to garbled nonsense. He clenches down on Victor’s cock in response, and gives the shell of his ear a mischievous kitten lick.

That seems to do it. Victor comes with a sharp gasp and Yuuri’s name on his tongue, flooding Yuuri’s insides with his sperm.

As soon as Yuuri feels it, two things happen; the first is that he comes too, spilling between their bodies as his body quakes and trembles with the force of his orgasm. It’s… been a while.

The second is the absolute surge of _energy_ that flows through Yuuri. He feels fantastic, rejuvenated; he feels like he could go out and win the Grand Prix Finals _right now,_ if it weren’t for the fact that Victor is still lying on top of him.

Yuuri blinks, having recovered from his climax with startling swiftness. Victor has gone lax on top of him – he almost looks dead, if it weren’t for the fact that Yuuri can hear and feel his harsh breathing against his neck.

“V-… Victor?” he asks, his voice now more characteristically small.

It takes a few moments, but eventually, he feels Victor’s smile. “ _Lyubimyi,_ that was incredible…”

Yuuri gives a tentative smile, though Victor can’t currently see it, but it drops when Victor speaks up again.

“… I was worried you weren’t enjoying it, at first,” he confesses, to Yuuri’s astonishment.

“W-What?”

“You were barely moving, not making a sound,” he elaborates. “But then you flipped your switch so suddenly… _Gospodi,_ Yuuri, you were so fucking hot.”

Yuuri would blush, if he weren’t already still red from their raucous love-making. “I… uh…”

Victor finally lifts his head, showing off his beatific smile that Yuuri, honestly, would die for. He looks at Yuuri, about to say something else, when that smile promptly slides off his face and his eyes go round with alarm.

“Y-Yuuri!” he shifts back, propping himself up on his elbows.

Yuuri feels a surge of panic. “W-What? What is it?”

Victor’s tone matches his expression with he shouts, “You have _horns!”_

Yuuri stares at him. Then, with trembling fingers, he reaches up to touch his head. In the exact spot he knew it would be, he feels something bone-like and hard. He knows what Victor is seeing – two identical horns, jutting from Yuuri’s hair and curling around his head like a weird laurel crown.

Victor sits back on his legs, still eyeing Yuuri with equal measures of surprise and worry. His gaze catches on something else, though. Something by Yuuri’s hip; and Yuuri already knows what it is, since he can feel it flicking idly back and forth on its own.

“And a… tail…?”

Wincing, Yuuri sits up. As he does, a familiar weight makes itself known on his back, and with a ducked head, he lets them unfurl.

“And _wings?!”_

Yuuri buries his face in his hands and groans.

 

* * *

 

So, Yuuri is an incubus.

Apparently, it’s a ‘thing’ in their family. At least for the men. Yuuri’s father is one, and so was his father, his brother, grandfather, etc. Toshiya made up multiple stories, ranging from one of their ancestors getting cursed, to a demon falling in love with a Katsuki woman and raising the literal hell spawn with her, inadvertently causing the rest of the bloodline to be ‘tainted’.

Yuuri doesn’t know the real story (he doubts his father does, too), but frankly, he doesn’t care to know. All that matters is that there’s actual demon blood inside him – and according to his father, even a little bit is enough to make you a full-fledged incubus, with all the powers that entails.

It supposedly varies from male to male. Toshiya’s incubus is calm, rarely ever showing itself unless he wills it. It was much harder to control in his youth, he’d tell a mortified Yuuri, who would then beg his father to stop talking before he started going on about his sex life.

It didn’t help that Yuuri’s mother was usually giggling like a schoolgirl right beside him.

Anyway, they can still function like regular humans – they could survive off human food, and their own sexual energy (i.e., masturbation) was enough to satisfy their… baser cravings.

Some Katsuki men tried keeping their inner demons at bay by marrying religious women, or having special exorcisms performed. None worked out, hence why Yuuri, the latest in their bloodline, is stuck with the threat of having a tail sprout from his ass whenever he so much as has a dirty thought.

His incubus is, evidently, a raging horndog.

It was terrible when he was teenager. He was horny eighty percent of the time and miserable the other twenty. He’d rarely leave his room, or even wander the onsen unless he knew for certain that he’d only bump into his family, who all knew the family secret.

Finally, when puberty finished its tirade against Yuuri’s body, he felt he had it under control. By then, he’d discovered his preference for boys, and there weren’t really a lot of boys in Hasetsu he had the hots for. In fact, the only boy he consistently got hard for was Victor Nikiforov – but that was in the privacy of his own room, the curtains drawn and door locked.

Things got a bit more difficult when he went off to college.

He hadn’t told his then-roommate Phichit about it for a long while, and honestly, he never planned to. Sure, they were close, but the less people who knew, in Yuuri’s mind, the better. But then Yuuri had this blind date; the guy was hot, and he figured he had a good enough control on his incubus by then to keep it at bay.

He did not.

The guy freaked out as soon as he saw the tail and wings and horns, and Yuuri, in a panic, used one of his powers for the first time in his life. His blind date dropped like a rock, fast asleep, and when he woke up, he thought it was all just a bizarre dream. Yuuri never spoke to, or even looked at, him again.

And then, because the world wasn’t done picking on Yuuri just yet, Phichit came back to the dorm early that night to find Yuuri curled up on their couch, still in full incubus form, screaming into a pillow.

He was surprised, sure, but Phichit was, as he is most of the time, pretty chill about the whole thing.

Still, Yuuri never went on another date after that. He strayed from sex – hell, he strayed from romance altogether. Phichit kept telling him that he could have a relationship without the sex, and Yuuri knew that; he’d met a few people with similar relationships in his life.

But the thing is, Yuuri likes sex.

Understatement: he _loves_ sex.

He doesn’t know if it’s the incubus part of him or if it’s just how he’d be even if he were a normal human, but sex has always fascinated Yuuri. When he was alone in his room, he’d grab the dildo he’d shyly purchased from the sex shop down the street from his and Phichit’s dorm, and sink down on it, letting his horns and tail free, wings spread out behind him, wondering what a real cock would feel like inside him.

He wanted to know, but it just wasn’t worth the risk.

(It’s honestly a goddamn miracle that he didn’t accidentally reveal himself at the banquet back in Sochi; something he still marvels about to this day.)

Then Victor Nikiforov showed up, buck naked, at his family home, _dripping wet_ and infuriatingly handsome. Thankfully, Yuuri was too shocked to get aroused from the sight, and once he grew used to Victor’s presence, he could handle being in the onsen with him. He kind of wished Victor wasn’t so handsy, though; it was just making things more difficult.

It was… complicated, getting the Eros routine. Having to think of love and passion and being as alluring as possible, when he’s spent the better half of his life avoiding just that. His father had laughed when he found out, as did Phichit, who called him after the routine debuted at the Onsen On Ice event. Mostly to laugh, but also to congratulate Yuuri on his astonishing self-control.

Honestly, Yuuri was pretty fucking proud of himself, too.

But then he and Victor grew… closer. Victor got more tactile, and Yuuri found himself not minding it as much. It was a comfortable sort of intimacy, the kind that didn’t make his incubus blood thrum hotly under his skin, threatening to overpower him at a moment’s notice.

Then the kiss at the Cup of China happened, which led to more kissing in their hotel room, which led to… yeah.

Yuuri was sure he could handle it this time. Even if it was Victor Nikiforov, he thought he could keep it contained.

But he couldn’t.

Needless to say, he and Victor have a long, _long_ conversation that night.

He just hopes it won’t be too much for Victor; he still wants to hold on to him, for as long as he’s willing to be held on to.

 

* * *

 

Victor hums quietly to himself, observing the kitchen counter with a smile. It’s laden with all the ingredients necessary for pork cutlet bowls, and the utensils he’ll need to make it. His smile grows wider, thinking of the look that will be on Yuuri’s face when he gets home, only to find his favorite food waiting for him.

They’ve made an addendum to the ‘for wins only’ rule imposed on pork cutlet bowls. Ever since moving to Saint Petersburg, Yuuri is hit with the occasional bout of homesickness. And Victor, too, finds himself missing Mama Hiroko’s delightful cooking, so the deal was this: once a month, they’ll treat themselves each to a bowl.

Victor’s doing it a little early, but Yuuri’s been working so hard on his new programs, he wants to reward him.

He’s about to get started when the front door swings open, and Makkachin races by the kitchen as a brown blur to get there first. He hears barking in the atrium, followed by Yuuri’s soft cooing for the poodle. Then, moments later, Yuuri is padding into view, shedding his coat and scarf and setting them aside on the coatrack.

“You’re back early,” Victor says, trying not to pout. There goes his surprise.

Yuuri only hums, the flush from the cold still on his cheeks. His eyes are glazed; Victor figures he must be tired.

Turning around, Yuuri makes a beeline for Victor, who automatically opens his arms to envelope the Japanese man in an embrace. Yuuri melts against him, making Victor smile – it’s hard to be upset when Yuuri is just so soft and sweet like this.

“I’m hungry,” he mumbles into Victor’s collarbones, voice husky and deep.

“I was about to start dinner,” he chuckles. “It’s pork cutlet bowls tonight. Surprise!”

Instead of lighting up with happiness, like Victor expects, Yuuri shakes his head.

“Not that kind of hungry.”

He slips a hand past the waistband of Victor’s sweatpants. Victor yelps, because Yuuri’s hand is still _cold,_ but then the chill disappears immediately, replaced with a warmth that Victor knows all too well by now.

Slender fingers wrap around Victor’s flaccid cock, and his eyes widen with realization. _Oh._

He’s _that_ kind of hungry.

Biting his lip, Victor gives a forlorn glance to the ingredients painstakingly laid out on the counter. But by then, Yuuri is mouthing at his neck, hand slowly stroking Victor’s dick inside his pants.

His resolve really crumbles to dust when Yuuri looks up at him, warm brown eyes turning red with hazy lust, pink lips parted just so, and says in that gorgeously needy tone, “Feed me, Vitya?”

Victor responds by grabbing Yuuri, hoisting him up into his arms, bridal-style, and striding as quickly away from the kitchen as humanely possible. Yuuri has a pleased smile on his face.

He carries his lover to the living room, where he lays him down on the sofa with reverence. He towers over him, and Yuuri looks him up and down for a moment. His smile gives way to a smirk. Yuuri blinks, and suddenly, they’re both naked.

Victor doesn’t have to glance around to find out where their clothes are – they’ve likely ended up in the laundry basket, waiting to be washed. He shivers at the blatant display of Yuuri’s power, which has only grown exponentially ever since he let Victor in on his little secret.

Yuuri spreads his legs open invitingly, revealing his hardened little cock, as well as a teasing flash of a pink, puckered rim nestled between his cheeks. His eyes are fully red, now. Victor reaches down, fingers wrapping around Yuuri’s erection, and grins.

“Were you like this all day, Yuuri?” he asks, rubbing his thumb up and down the underside of his lover’s cock. The thought excites him more than he thinks it probably should; Yuuri, trying to work out his routines on his own, surrounded by their rink mates and Yakov, only to be hopelessly distracted by the growing hunger in his body.

Hunger for _Victor._

Yuuri groans, canting his hips up, as if silently begging Victor to touch him more. “Yes, Victor… Ah!” He gasps when Victor presses his thumb down on the slit, rubbing in the precum to make the digit slick. The Russian’s cock is twitching between his legs, and Yuuri watches it lustfully. “I wanted you all day… Mm, I couldn’t focus. I just thought about how I’d take your big cock inside me the minute I got home…”

Victor tuts, removing his hand, much to Yuuri’s dismay. “Naughty thing. You’re supposed to be getting ready for next season.”

“I know,” he whines. “Just fuck me now, please, and I’ll work twice as hard next practice. I promise.”

Victor makes a show of considering Yuuri’s words, even though he knows that his lover will make good on them.

“Hmm. I don’t know. As your coach and future competitor, I don’t think I should indulge in your lazy habits just because you’re an insatiable slut. Not very responsible of me, is it?”

Yuuri both whimpers and glares at Victor. Victor smiles innocently back at him.

Victor lowers his hand to Yuuri’s ass, still smiling, and slips his slicked-up thumb between his cheeks, pushing at the younger man’s entrance. He slides in easily, his thumb instantly sheathed in velvety warmth.

Yuuri’s glare is abruptly changed for a look of bliss as _some_ part of Victor is finally inside him. It’s not the part he wants most, though, and Victor knows that.

“I think I should make you work for it, first. Show me how much you want me, Yuuri. Show me _all of you.”_

Yuuri looks at him, all rosy cheeks and red eyes, and nibbles at his bottom lip, as if in contemplation. It amuses Victor, that he’s still so hesitant about showing all of himself to him, even though he clearly doesn’t have any qualms about using his powers.

Finally, he nods, and moves to sit up. Victor removes his thumb from Yuuri’s hole and watches expectantly as his lover gets off the sofa to stand in front of him.

Yuuri closes his eyes, rolling his shoulders back. Like a slow dissolve, his horns manifest first, poking out from his feather-soft hair. Victor loves them; they’re dark red and something about the way they curl around and up his head is almost regal, like a crown.

Then, his wings unravel, fluttering slightly before settling in a neutral position. Victor loves them, too, despite Yuuri’s constant grumbling that they’re useless. Sure, he can’t fly with them but Victor likes to admire their gradient black-to-red hue, and feel their silky texture on his fingertips.

Plus, they make for a hell of a sight spread out against their bedsheets.

Finally, his tail flicks into existence, and it’s this particular bit about Yuuri’s incubus anatomy that Victor loves the most. It’s a shade of red that matches his eyes, flaring out from just above his butt. It’s as long as Yuuri’s legs, and at the end of it is a heart-shaped barb. And why does Victor love Yuuri’s tail so much?

He reaches out, hand going behind Yuuri, until his fingers find purchase on the base of his tail. Yuuri’s eyes snap open as he gasps, entire body shuddering as Victor pinches his tail with a giddy smirk.

It’s the most sensitive part of Yuuri’s body.

Victor slowly starts rubbing his fingers up and down the base of the tail, squeezing intermittently as he admires the wanton look on Yuuri’s face. The tip of his tail swings back and forth, almost like an overexcited cat, and his wings twitch minutely with every touch. Victor leans forwards, hot breath ghosting over Yuuri’s excited cock. Without further preamble, he takes the entire length easily into his mouth, humming with content as Yuuri lets out a long, shameless moan, pushing his hips against Victor’s head.

His hands tangle themselves in Victor’s silvery locks; his tail curls around the wrist of the hand stroking it. Victor lets his hand be pulled down, knowing exactly where it will end up. He pushes his entire index finger into Yuuri’s entrance as soon as he feels the muscle twitch under him, and at the same time, he gives Yuuri’s cock a harsh suck.

Yuuri cries out, clenching around Victor’s finger.

“Y-You don’t have to, Vitya…” he struggles to say. “I’m ready… You can slide r-right in and – _ah!_ A-And fuck me…”

Victor pulls off Yuuri’s dick with a wet pop, grinning up at the incubus. “Is that how you beg for me, darling? Tell me _exactly_ what you want, then I’ll give it to you.”

Yuuri pouts, but it’s a false expression of annoyance, Victor knows.

He’s proven right when the incubus quickly falls to his knees, settling himself between Victor’s legs and gazing up at him with those wide, red eyes that Victor loves. He’s biting his lip for good measure, the bright white of his teeth making the pink of his plump lips even more evident. Victor wants to rub his cock head against those sweet lips, paint them with come, but he decides to wait for Yuuri’s instructions.

“I want my Vitya,” Yuuri purrs, rubbing his cheek against Victor’s thigh. Victor’s dick throbs in want. “I want him to fuck me wide open with that big, beautiful cock… I want to be his whore. And I want his come. I _need_ it, all over me and inside me…”

Victor lets out a long, shaky breath. He smiles down at his fiancé. “I’ll need your help with that.”

Yuuri nods eagerly.

“Alright. Shall I make you swallow it first? Or do you want it in your ass now?”

Yuuri licks his lips; it’s answer enough. Victor reaches out with both hands and curls them each around Yuuri’s horns. The incubus’s mouth falls open automatically, and Victor takes a moment to admire the picture he makes. Flushed, sweaty, with luscious lips perfect for sucking cock wide open and ready for him. Then, he pulls Yuuri forward, guiding him to his eager dick.

He groans when he feels himself enveloped in the wet heat of Yuuri’s mouth. Yuuri takes him so easily, and he’s not sure if that because of the incubus, or if he’s just a savant at sucking cock, but either way, Victor marvels at how lucky he is. The head of his cock must be pushing past the back of Yuuri’s throat, but the younger man shows no sign of discomfort; rather, he moans, vibrations rippling around and through Victor’s dick as he looks up pleadingly, begging his lover to _take_.

And who is Victor to deny Yuuri when he begs?

Using his horns as an anchor, Victor bobs Yuuri’s head up and down, watching with a manic grin as his cock slides in and out of the incubus’s stretched lips, glistening with Yuuri’s spit. Red eyes slide closed in ecstasy, and _oh no,_ Victor’s not having that.

He moves one hand and slaps the side of Yuuri’s face with it. It’s quick and relatively harmless, but Yuuri’s eyes fly back open all the same, and Victor gives him a stern glare.

“Eyes on me, _zolotse,”_ he demands.

He feels Yuuri shudder, and is satisfied when he obediently keeps his eyes open – now it hardly matters that Yuuri’s irises gleam like blood, because his pupils are dilated so wide they look black instead.

Suddenly, Victor feels something wrap around the base of his cock. Jolting, he glances down to see Yuuri’s tail as the culprit; the tip of it wiggles mischievously, caressing the veins it finds with teasing, featherlight touches.

Victor halts his movement of Yuuri, mostly out of surprise, and the incubus takes that as initiative to move of his own volition.

He pitches his head forwards, swallowing Victor down to the root, whilst his tail loosens its grip just enough for the tip to slide against the Russian’s balls. Victor shudders, opening his mouth to swear, when Yuuri’s tail presses _just so_ against his sack, and Yuuri’s throat ripples around him, and – _fuck._

Yuuri’s name is on his lips as he comes, shooting into his incubus’s eager mouth. Yuuri gives a moan of gratitude as he drinks it in, and his tail squeezes around Victor’s cock, possibly as another sign of thanks.

When Victor finishes, he collapses against the back of the couch, glaring at Yuuri as he stands, licking his lips and smirking like the cat who got the cream.

“You cheated,” he pouts.

Yuuri tuts, climbing to settle onto Victor’s lap. “It’s not cheating if I was born with it, Vitya.”

Victor wants to argue back, but then he feels Yuuri’s plush bottom grinding against his softened cock, which is miraculously growing hard again. Though ‘miraculously’ might not be the correct term.

The Russian tilts his head back, eyes closed, and sighs as he feels the familiar rush of Yuuri’s power surging through him. He doesn’t feel nearly as tired as he normally would be after a round of sex, which is to Yuuri’s benefit.

And judging by the intensity of his first orgasm, they’ll be pulling another all-nighter.

Victor opens his eyes to see Yuuri staring down at his crotch, where his large cock now stands proudly once more, beading precum at the slit. The incubus watches with thinly-veiled desire, palming his own dick in response.

He lifts his hips again, positioning himself over Victor’s waiting shaft, and without warning, slides down in one smooth, quick motion.

Victor gasps, though the sound of it is drowned out by Yuuri’s delirious giggle of contentment. The incubus wastes no time in rocking his hips back and forth, allowing his slick inner walls to rub against Victor’s cock, which pulses hotly inside him.

The Russian tilts his head back again, now biting his lip to keep himself from letting out a truly embarrassing sound. Despite the numerous times they’ve now made love, he’s never really prepared for the way Yuuri feels around him; soft and slick and warm, he feels like a toy made specifically for Victor’s dick. By now, as unlikely as it is to happen, if Victor were to have sex with anyone else, he knows they would simply fall short.

Victor’s thought it before, many times now, but _lord above,_ Yuuri Katsuki will be his undoing.

“How is it, Vitya?” Yuuri murmurs against his ear, still rocking in his lap. “Should I make it tighter? Or do you want me to feel loose and slick, like you’ve already fucked me all night?”

Victor holds back a groan. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were pure.”

To that, he hears his incubus snort. “You never thought that.”

Victor responds by wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s torso – one hand lies splayed on his back, between the spot where his wings flare out from his shoulder blades, while the other rests on the top of his ass, fingers drifting closer to where his tail begins.

Yuuri shudders when he feels Victor’s grip on his tail again, but this time it’s stronger, more like a pinch than a squeeze.

“You know what I want you to do?” Victor asks, almost conversationally, though he’s slightly out of breath and his voice is a bit strained. He doesn’t wait for Yuuri to answer, either. “I want you to ride my cock until I come again. Then I want you on your hands and knees. Do you know what I’m going to do then, Yuuri?”

He scrapes his fingernail against the sensitive tail, and Yuuri _screams._

“Vit _yaaah…!”_

“That’s right,” Victor smiles against Yuuri’s skin, smoothing his finger along the same area he scratched, almost like an apology. “I’m going to fuck your little incubus cunt until you’re leaking my come all over the floor and begging me to stop.”

He feels Yuuri constrict around him, his body vibrating like all his nerves have been set alight. The incubus doesn’t speak – Victor sort of doubts he can now, since all that comes out of his mouth are garbled, mewling whimpers. He _can_ make out his name, though.

Victor chuckles. Some days it gives him whiplash, how quickly the control switches between them. Admittedly, he loves it when Yuuri takes charge, because his sweet little incubus is surprisingly sure of what he likes and wants Victor to do, taking on a confidence he rarely has in anything else.

But Victor has a bias, and so he prefers it when he’s the one in command. Because it always leads to Yuuri gazing at him like he is now; eyes glazed over and hooded, lips parted and trembling. He looks like Eros, in pure flesh and blood form, and all that eroticism is reserved for Victor and Victor alone.

“Well?” he asks haughtily, rolling his hips up as lightly as he can manage. It earns a gasp from Yuuri, who almost appears lost for a moment. “What are you waiting for? If you want me to fuck you, you have to make me come again first.”

Yuuri blinks owlishly, so Victor reaches around and gives his ass a quick little slap – it does its job and startles the incubus into moving again, this time raising his hips and bouncing on Victor’s cock with a rigor unmatched by any human partner the Russian’s ever had.

Victor grins to himself, smug, as he admires the way Yuuri’s muscles move and tense above him. He’s like a work of art; filthy, slutty art.

Minutes later, Yuuri wails as he feels Victor fill him to the brim with another load of come, and Victor wastes no time in pushing the incubus to the floor to fuck him again, both prepared for the long night ahead.

 

* * *

 

Early the next afternoon, Victor awakes, in their bedroom and with a slight headache, to the smell of food drifting in from the kitchen. When he manages to stumble his way there, he’s greeted by Yuuri – lively, naked, and still in incubus form – who puts a pork cutlet bowl in front of his fiancé and then slides under the table for his own breakfast: Victor’s cock.

The fact that his lover is a sex demon be damned; Victor knows he’s in heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> my working title for this was 'the katsuki family curse' but really it just focuses on yuuri lmao
> 
> btw; in this verse, it totally becomes a ritual for yuuri to suck victor off/get fucked before he goes on the ice. boosts his stamina and all that.
> 
> (¬‿¬)


End file.
